Father's Son
by liebedero
Summary: Song inspired - i love you three doors down! - "Wilson was right, he just needed a better outlook on life. " House's Thoughts about the twists and turns his life has taken. Is he his father's Son? You decide. One shot.


**I own nothing sadly – **

________________

1

In the glare of a neon sign - She laid her body down - The damned walked in beside her  
And he laid his money down. He said don't try to scream now - But I want this one to hurt  
And tonight my pretty one - I'm gonna get my money's worth

­­­­­­­­­­­­_______

House sighed. He'd done hookers before, heck he'd been so drunk each time he'd probably done Paris Hilton.

_Whaddo ya use Paris Hilton as when you go fishing?_

_The Hooker._

He sighed. The joke wasn't even that funny. He'd wanted to be done with hookers. For good. He had tried, for Cuddy's sake. But she'd been cold to him for the past week for no obvious reason. Hell, he'd even gone above and beyond to get her that desk, the one from med school.

_I wish that Wilson had slipped me some anti-depressants in my coffee. _

House was depressed. He wanted to be do…no back up. He wanted to have hot passionate sex with Cuddy. Well, he just wanted Cuddy. Heart, mind, and body. Last night's Hooker had been nice. She actually talked to him. Too many others had said that it wasn't in their job description to actually talk during the sex. What fun was that?

Last night's hooker had been a real professional. She had introduced herself as Veronica and told him to think of the one person he really wanted to be having sex with. Who he loved more than life. She told him to imagine that she was that person.

House vaguely remembered murmuring 'Lisa', or , 'Cuddy', at least a million times that night. He gave Veronica a thousand dollar tip to go get her life in order. She'd thanked him quietly with a kiss on the cheek and told him she'd write when she got into her 2 year technical college she'd been aiming for. (Earlier she had asked him his deepest wishes and dreams, he'd asked her back). Piety, he found, wasn't such a bad thing after all.

_______

He said they never listened  
She said they'd never understand - I don't do this for pleasure - I just do it cause I can

I swear I didn't want to - And I swear I didn't know - That things like this could happen -To a 17-year old.

________________

2

In the haze of a smoky room - He chokes that bottle down - It's been a month since her saw her face -Underneath the blood stained gown. He thinks about that little girl - And the one he has at home - And wonders what if that was my little girl - Walkin' down that road alone. Maybe I'm just crazy or the devil got inside - But either way my soul is gone, I'll end this all tonight - The one hand throws the whiskey, and the other throws the gun - As he cries out to the heavens  
I am not my father's son.

_______

The letter arrived from Veronica about a month later. She had started over. Of all the young women he knew, House could not think of one that he'd ever want to see reduced to selling away her body for another's enjoyment. Not Cameron, not Thirteen, defiantly not Lisa Cuddy. He thought back to the test that he had preformed on John House's hair. That test proved that, indeed, his mother had at one point been unfaithful. But, at one point who hadn't been?

Wilson had recently admonished him for being hard, controlling, and disciplinary, in a sense. That was at least how House had interpreted it. Wilson had told him he needed to lighten up. House shook his head at his own stupidness. He had ultimately turned an invitation to go out with the guys (the guys being Wilson) and have some fun, such as going to a bar and shooting some pool, to mean he was turning into his own father. His unlying, cruelly truthful, pristine and perfect, rules, rules, rules, get it right, be - better - than - human - because - you're - not - good –enough - for - me - like - you - are father. The father that did truly love his son, but didn't even know that he wasn't biologically related. Greg House would not be his father's son. He didn't want to become his father. Successful, smart, good-looking, somewhat miserable but mostly happy, and not a particularly good father. These were words describing John House.

Successful, smart, good-looking, and completely miserable, and never been a father, were the words House used to describe himself sometimes. Happy wasn't ever one of them. It was close; sooo close, but being happy had been a large part of John House's life. Being happy only took up about a percent of Greg's, and that was only when he had a particularly interesting case. Greg House was not his father's son. At least that was what he wanted to think. And deep down he really did mourn the loss of the man that had molded him throughout life. The reason was because, deep down, though he didn't want to admit it, Greg House had become his father. And somewhere in his brain, Greg had registered this fact and accepted it as the truth. But he would never admit that more than subconsciously. He was afraid of it. So afraid that it would make him something he wasn't, something he didn't want to be. The more Greg thought about it the more he realized. It didn't matter who his father had been. Greg was Greg because of everything that had ever happened to him, including everything he had endured from his father. And if that had never happened he wouldn't be himself, the person he had come to live with being. The person, who deep down, was mostly satisfied with who he was. If he wasn't himself, House, he didn't know who he'd be. And deep down, Greg was happy.

Someday, maybe, he'd end it, end his misery, maybe it'd be tonight, maybe tomorrow afternoon. Whenever it'd be, he'd still be himself. Gregory House, M.D. Whether he ended it by moving on or killing himself with drugs and alcohol was another question. But somehow he knew he'd live. Life just wasn't fun if it was predictable, and enough people predicted that his addiction and alcoholism would be the end of it. He'd prove them wrong though, just like always. And, as always it just wouldn't be fun if it ended any other way. Greg House would go out with a bang when his time came. Greg House wouldn't be ending his life anytime soon. He had ducklings to annoy, a Cuddy to hustle, and a BBF who needed to be riddled with questions about his love life.

A small smile crept over Greg's face as he left the bar still sober enough to drive. Life was just to busy right now. Too many annoyingly correct diagnoses to make, too many people that needed a daily dose of House. Life was too fun to end right now. Wilson was right, he just needed a better outlook on life.

_______

And I've bundled up all of these things inside  
And I've bottled up all of this pain  
And no one or nothing can take this away  
But I won't let it happen again  
Never again  
Never again  
And I've bundled up all of these fears inside

And I've bottled up all of this pain  
And no one or nothing can take this away  
But I won't let it happen again  
Never again  
No


End file.
